Lost in Kirkwall
by Redhead Turk
Summary: Ever got annoyed with the level recycling in DA2? Well, so did Hawke. One evening, Hawke gets desperately lost in Hightown and accidentally wanders into someone's house, only to find... Meant as HUMOUR. Please R/R!


Written as a micro-story challenge (700 words or less).

Ever wondered why there was suddenly an option to sell Fenris back to Danarius, despite 100 friendship status? Well, here it is; the reason behind the most tearful treachery in DA2.

Meant as HUMOUR. As in, it's supposed to be stupid and (hopefully) laughable. So please don't send me messages saying "WHY DID YOU SELL FENRIS? YOU SECOND COMING OF THE DARKSPAWN!".

Lost in Kirkwall

It was undeniable that whoever designed Kirkwall severely lacked in imagination. Or so Hawke thought. People made fun of Merrill for getting lost and accidentally wandering into Darktown, but what did Anders know about the terrors of Kirkwall in its uniformity? It wasn't like Anders ever left Darktown by himself anyway. That git.

So, as Hawke was trying to get back to the home in Hightown, it occurred that he was lost. Completely. Everywhere he looked, it looked _exactly_ the same. White walls, same doors. Even the heraldries looked the same unless examined up close.

After wandering around in circles for a good half hour, he gave up, and wandered over to… hey, this looked familiar! This must be his house!

So he yanked open the door and…

A smell hit his nose.

Ew.

EWEWEWEWEWEW!

Hawke pulled out a relatively clean handkerchief – relatively, because Varric evidently used it to wipe up something that was clearly on the tabletop of The Hanged Man – and held his nose. The stench was plain awful. Rotting meat. Maggots. Flies. Oozing pus. All sorts of unsavoury thoughts came with the stench, and Hawke wondered how the neighbours managed to not complain.

"What are you doing here?" a sullen voice interrupted his thoughts, and Hawke turned. He understood that this couldn't be his home, and just who exactly owned this place. Fenris.

"Maker's sake, Fenris," Hawke complained, his voice muffled through the firmly clamped down nose and the handkerchief, "would it kill you to clean up the dead bodies! It smells worse than the Deep Roads here!"

"I suppose not," said the elven warrior, pouting prettily, "but I like this décor."

"You call this DÉCOR? It's dead bodies that's at least three years old and broken furniture! Hanged Man has better furnishings than this! How come your neighbours don't complain?"

"They do," said a woman's voice. The two men turned to see Aveline, Captain of the Guard of Kirkwall, standing by the door by the mysterious horn standing on the pedestal that made the companions appear and disappear at random. She held a huge handkerchief by her nose. "I've been getting all sorts of reports. You said you'd be good, Fenris."

"I have!" said the Tevinter elf, whining.

"THEN CLEAN UP!" Hawke and Aveline bellowed.

Fenris pouted again. "But… but…!"

"But what, Fenris!"

"But… they talk to me!" Fenris wailed. "I can't sleep without them! They sing me lullabies! And, and, Bob over there?" he pointed at a dessicating corpse in the corner; it was so badly decomposing that neither Aveline nor Hawke knew what it originally was. All they knew was, it smelled terrible. And was that a maggot as large as Aveline's thumb crawling out of the eyesocket?

"Bob… Bob tells me stories!" Fenris yowled. "They tuck me into bed! And tell me stories about teddy bears and bunnies!"

Hawke and Aveline decided to leave as soon as possible, leaving Fenris wailing to himself. They rushed out the door, unable to breathe in the fetid air any longer. As soon as they got out, Aveline gasped for breath, and Hawke leaned onto the wall.

"I think the lyrium got to his head," Aveline noted, but she got no reply. Hawke was looking into the distance. There was one thought in his mind, and one thought only:

_I have to get rid of him. I wonder if it's contagious._

* * *

"And this is your new master then? The Champion of Kirkwall? Quite handsome."

"If you want him, he's yours."

Fenris looked at him. "WHAT?"

Hawke looked at him. "Dude, man, I've told you again and again that the dead bodies have got to go. And did you listen? Noooo." The Champion looked at the Tevinter mage. "He's all yours. And do instill some hygiene in him, will you?"


End file.
